


Ramblings of a Redhead

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-20
Updated: 2006-03-20
Packaged: 2019-01-19 15:24:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12412887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: When Lily Evans enters her Seventh Year at Hogwarts to find that she has to work alongside the boy who brings out the worst in her, all sorts of strange things start happening.  More than this, she comes to discover that people aren’t always as they seem.  Follow the ever-quirky Lily through her last year at Hogwarts.





	Ramblings of a Redhead

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**Home**

**Saturday, 20 August, 1977** ****

 

****

Today was my grandmum’s birthday and funeral. I guess my relatives decided that since her birthday would be very painful to experience, they might as well kill two birds with one stone and hold her funeral on that day. I didn’t know either of my grandparents really well, despite the fact that they lived nearby. My grandmum had Dementia and my grandad has Alzheimer’s. Quite the forgetful pair. Every time we’d go over, I’d have to introduce myself, and it got pretty annoying after a while. There were a couple of times when my grandad would go psycho, too. He had these fits, where he thought that there were conspiracies going on around him. There was this one time when we went over for his birthday and gave him his present, and he _insisted_ that it was a bomb and that we all had to leave the building immediately. Poor old bloke still hasn’t realized that the war is over. I mean, it’s been thirty years. It’s time to get past it. But, of course, it’s just the Alzheimer’s talking.

He doesn’t even realize that she’s dead, either. He came up to me at the funeral, bewildered, and asked, “Do you know where Grace is?” Grace is (or _was_ , actually) my grandmum, by the way. Anyway, I didn’t have the heart to tell him that she’s dead, so I just said that she was around there somewhere and I was sure she’d turn up soon. I’m an awful person, but you should have seen him! It was quite depressing.

Anyway, the point is, my mum and I were going through my grandmum’s old stuff, and we came across this diary, which I guess was my grandmum’s when she was my age. Teary-eyed, my mum looked through it and handed it to me and told me I should keep it. Now, I don’t want to seem like an unloving grandchild or anything, but this diary holds no emotional significance for me. So, when she wasn’t looking, I took the used pages out of the book (my grandmum wasn’t a very interesting lady, she had only written a few pages, and it was all about some bloke she was stalking - poor guy) and decided to keep it for myself.

So, here I am, writing in this diary. Since nothing ever happens during the summer, I think I’ll wait till school starts to write in here again. 

 

**Private Compartment, Hogwarts Express**

**Thursday, 1 September, 1977**

 

I am simply going to _murder_ Marley. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t normally wish to murder any of my mates (or anyone, for that matter), but this time she has _done it_. Yes, that’s right, she has driven me over the edge.

Actually, come to think of it, she hasn’t really _done_ anything, per se. She was only being her thick-headed, obtuse self. Yes, I just said ‘obtuse.’ I think this whole Head Girl thing is going to my head - I’m using words that _nobody_ uses just because I can. I mean, who says ‘obtuse’ anyway? Obviously stuck-up Head Girls like myself. Now, I was not _always_ this supercilious and egotistical. I used to be simple-minded and kind. Unfortunately, the letter I received a week ago killed that girl. And no, it did not simply kill her, it bashed her over the head repeatedly with a dull shovel, dug her a very large hole, and threw her in there, never to be found again.

Yes, my Hogwarts letter containing the information about my appointment as Head Girl, murdered the old Lily Evans. In her place, it appointed a _new_ Lily Evans - one who is insistent upon using strange, uncommon words to make herself look smart. I suppose this was brought about by some insecurity on my part, but I think that my newfound effort to appear to be perspicacious (smart) is in order to show the world that I _deserve_ to be Head Girl. After all, I know the moment people find out who has been appointed as their new Head Girl, there are going to be rude glares, angry hand gestures, and an altogether disbelieving attitude. After all, why _did_ they pick me? There are plenty of smarter Seventh Year girls at Hogwarts. I’m nothing special. Plus, I didn’t even know Dumbledore knew I existed! I’ve never talked to him before. Maybe the professors just put a bunch of names in a hat and pick a random one. I can just see it now - the dull nights of summer spent with much gambling, drinking, and insulting of students. Yes, I see McGonagall, lounging on a barstool, nursing some firewhiskey and smoking a cigar. Hmm, now that I think of it, that image has nothing to do with picking a name out of a hat, but it was an interesting image nonetheless.

But I’ve got this all under control. See, there’s one thing most people don’t know about me - I’m sneaky and cunning. Really, I should have been put in Slytherin. Not that I’m asking for anything of the sort - I’m perfectly content in Gryffindor - I’m just saying I would have done well there. Anyway, back to being cunning. I devised this whole scheme of appearing smart in order to pacify the angry mobs that are sure to maul me once I enter the Great Hall the first morning of school. Although I doubt they’d wait that long. Why not murder me in my sleep? Or even take their blunt dinner knives at the Opening Feast and stab me right there? I could be a noble Julius Caesar, stabbed in the back by some vicious Third Year Hufflepuff. I’d fall dramatically to the ground and exclaim, “Et tu, Brute!” Of course, there aren’t any Brutus’s in Hogwarts that I know of, so that is logically impossible. But it’d be dramatic all the same.

Anyway, I’m getting off topic. The point is, Hogwarts shall have its newly-perspicacious Head Girl. I am determined to not be a disappointment. No one shall ever say that Lily Evans was a failure! Not that anyone actually cares about who is Head Girl, anyway. I know I’m just being dramatic about this and should accept the fact that I’m Head Girl. But I’m just Lily Evans - Official Over-Analyzer.

Back to what I was originally saying, however, I’m going to murder Marley. Since you are, of course, only a diary, and one which has no former knowledge of me or my mates, this ‘Marley’ that I speak of is Marlene McKinnon, Seventh Year Gryffindor, and my best mate of now seven years. She’s not a perfect person (she’s rather peculiar; she has some odd habits that most people don’t know about) , but she still makes a great mate. She is far more fun than I - she’s the Gryffindor Seeker (one of the seven players in a magical game called Quidditch - basically, all she does is catch a tiny flying ball), is friends with practically everyone in the school (except the Slytherins - she _hates_ them - not that that’s really strange, most people hate them, but she hates them with more than just hate, if you know what I mean… which you probably don’t), and is too smart for her own good (some call her the brightest witch of our age - why wasn’t _she_ Head Girl?).

THE POINT IS - she is about to be brutally slaughtered by none other than her best mate - Lily Evans (who also happens to be me). The _reason_ why she is about to be murdered is because of the information she so indecorously bestowed upon me - the fact that James Potter is Head Boy.

Now, to you, a mere diary, this little fact may seem trivial and immaterial. However, to perspicacious Head Girls like myself, it is the absolute WORST NEWS EVER. How am I ever to pull off this whole urbane, intelligent New Lily Evans persona with James Potter around me all the time? He, after all, brings out the worst in me! For instance, there was this one time when he irritated me on a particularly bad day of mine, and I happened to shriek, “JUST SOD OFF, POTTER! GO BACK TO YOUR BLOODY STUPID FRIENDS!” and then proceeded to throw my Transfiguration textbook at him. This might not have been so bad if we hadn’t happened to currently be in the Library. Where a certain teacher also happened to be. McGonagall. Yes, it was that bad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen McGonagall that mad.

All at once, she did many things: 

1) spluttered in shock, 

2) turned quite red, 

3) looked at the floor where the Transfiguration textbook lay, 

and 4) proceeded to yell at me for a good half-hour for screaming, swearing, and throwing perfectly good textbooks across the room even when they were perfectly aimed and hit the offender right in the face.

Suffice it to say, it was not one of my best days. Fortunately, it was the day before exams, which meant that soon after, we left school. I haven’t talked to Potter since then.

Anyway, the point is - I’m going to have to work with him this year!! The insufferable prat gets on my nerves _constantly_! I don’t know how I’m going to be able to stand his behavior! I’m going to kill myself within the first week. HOW COULD DUMBLEDORE DO THIS?! Doesn’t he KNOW that I’ll be forced to inflict harm on myself if James Potter is Head Boy? Doesn’t he know I can’t stand Potter’s arrogant, egotistical behavior? Doesn’t he… 

Wait. This is bad. Really bad. Worse than it was ten seconds ago. I just realized that the worst part of this is that it might ruin my plan. My devious, cunning plan, that is. The one in which I’m going to be all smart and know-it-all-ish (yes, I know, not a word - I’m going to have to work on that if I want to be the Perspicacious Head Girl we all secretly know I am). The reason why James will ruin this is because I’m going to be a know-it-all, and he’s going to totally rub it in my face, because that’s pretty much all I yell at him for. The fact that he’s an arrogant prat, that is. And we all know that know-it-all’s are arrogant prats. Oh dear Merlin. An error in my brilliant plan. NOW what am I going to do? I can’t just drop the plan!! That will ruin me!

I guess I’m going to have to carry through with the plan, despite Potter’s attempts to disrupt it. After all, the good opinion of the Hogwarts is more important than that of Potter. Because I hate him. So the opinions of those I hate are not important. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

Okay, so maybe I don’t hate Potter. I don’t think I hate anyone, really. It’s just that Potter happens to be very good at getting on my nerves. I’ve tried to be his friend, believe me, but it just doesn’t work out! I know he isn’t as bad as I sometimes say (or shout) that he is, it’s just that really cruel things pop out of my mouth when he’s around. Stupid prat. He makes me look like an awful person in front of everyone else, causing me to say mean things because of the way he behaves. I mean, who _wouldn’t_ get upset with someone who constantly says either rude or suggestive things to you? Plus he simply does it to get on my nerves! I don’t know what pleasure he gets from making me mad! It’s not like there’s any benefit for him.

Maybe it’s just that

 

**Gryffindor Common Room,** **Hogwarts**

**Same Day** ****

 

****

Well, my last entry got cut off, and now I can’t finish my thought on account of the fact that I don’t remember that thought. Which is rather annoying, because it was probably some brilliant idea on my part.

Anyway, the reason why I was so unceremoniously cut off from finishing my brilliant thought was the entrance of James Potter in the Private Heads/Prefects Compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Of course, I immediately slammed this diary shut, because if Potter happened to grab hold of it and read it, I would be forever shamed. I mean, who _wouldn’t_ be completely mortified if someone read their diary - especially if you had just been writing about this person!

Immediately annoyed at his presence, I looked at him warily. What was he planning? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. But the stupid bloke didn’t even look at me! I’m not saying that I particularly wanted any attention he might give me - because his thinly-veiled insults and his stupid comments on _everything_ (he has something to say about _every single sodding thing_ ) did not interest me at all, and I don’t especially like the arguments that they always bring on.

Nonetheless, I was annoyed with his silence. It meant nothing good. In fact, his behavior now unnerved me more than it usually did. I mean, at least I knew where he was going with the insults. This time, I knew that he probably had something ugly up his sleeve, and he was simply trying to lure me into a false sense of security.

Before I could do anything, however, all the prefects came stumbling in, laughing and talking loudly. Suddenly, I felt my heartbeat quicken. I hadn’t prepared my speech! I had been too busy writing in my diary that I had forgotten to work out what I was going to say. All summer, I had been putting it off, saying I could do it the night before we left. But my parents took Petunia and me out to dinner, since I would be leaving the next day, and then I was so worn out when I got home that I went straight to bed. And this morning, I forgot all about it till now!

The room quieted as the prefects took their seats. I gulped. This wasn’t good. Standing up, I looked around at everyone there. The Ravenclaws were already in their school robes, ready to get back to school (Note to Self: Imitate Ravenclaws to give off the appearance of a know-it-all). The Hufflepuffs were smiling at me, eager to hear what I had to say. The Slytherins were giving me glares, while lounging in their seats in a painfully elegant manner. A couple of the Gryffindors were smiling, while the Seventh Year Prefects (Remus Lupin and Dorcas Meadowes) were talking to each other. Suddenly, all attention was directed toward me. I smiled and opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out! I couldn’t think. All I could think about was what to say, and then I couldn’t think because I knew I should be saying something, so I was worrying, and I was too busy doing so to think of something to say.

…If that makes sense. Anyway, the point is, I was standing there, turning red with embarrassment, with my mouth slightly open, while everyone looked up at me. One of the Slytherin Prefects smirked at me. Panicked, I tried to think about what I was supposed to be saying. It seemed like hours to me, but it was probably only a few seconds before I said, “Hello, everyone, I’m Lily Evans, Head Girl this year.” I would have continued, but Potter interrupted me.

“And, as you probably all know, I’m James Potter, and I’m Head Boy this year.” Relieved that he took the attention away from me (because I could not, for the life of me, figure out what to say next), but also annoyed that he was talking, I decided to give into the former feeling and let Potter talk. I looked over at him, taking in his appearance. He was wearing his school robes already, and his serious expression added to his glasses made him look exactly like a Head Boy should. But, of course, appearances aren’t everything. And that is certainly the case with Potter, who - although very smart (I’m not _very_ unfair, I’ll admit the truth, as much as it hurts) - has such a disrespect for the rules that he should have been last on the list for Head Boy. His voice interrupted my thoughts.

“I know you’re all eager to get back to your mates, but there are a few things we need to discuss before you can. For instance…” James continued, going through the duties the Prefects would have to perform and what was expected of them. I listened without quite taking it all in, too shocked to add any of my own thoughts on the matter. Since when did James Potter know the duties of Prefects? He had never been one!

Puzzled, I barely noticed that James had finished talking. I felt everyone’s gaze on me again, and I decided they were waiting for me to say something. I smiled slightly and said, “Well, I hope you all have a great year. You can return to your compartments now!”

And then they left. I returned to the compartment which I had originally been sitting in, which contained Marlene McKinnon and Benjamin Fenwick. I sighed as I noted that the compartment lacked my good friend Alice, who had graduated last year.

Alice is my second best friend. If it weren’t for Marley, she _would_ be my best friend. But she lacks the energy and charisma of Marley. She’s more of the cute, elegant type. Very sweet, quite pretty, but borders on being a teacher’s pet. Not that that’s bad - that’s Alice. We all love her for it. Not surprisingly, she was Head Girl last year. She had the best grades in the school, and she was just the Head Girl type. Sweet. Kind. Loved by all. Great leader. And me? I don’t have any of those qualities. I’m an irascible person and am prone to throw things when angered. I try to be kind, but it’s just so hard when people are difficult. And I’m definitely not loved by all. Take the Slytherins, for instance. They would Avada Kedavra me right here on the train if they could. No, I should not have been made Head Girl.

Anyway, moving on - Benjamin Fenwick, but we all called him Benjy. He’s a Sixth Year Gryffindor, and he’s not the brightest chap, but he’s really sweet. And he’s got blue eyes. And blonde hair. And all the girls love him. Not me, though, of course. I’m just saying he’s not hard on the eyes. Okay, so maybe I have a little thing for him, but that doesn’t matter. It’s not as if he likes me anyway. He doesn’t like anyone, actually. He hasn’t had a girlfriend since Fourth Year. Maybe he has some unrequited love that he’s been unable to accept, and so he’s been pining over some lucky girl for years. Hmm, maybe it’s me! Okay, so maybe not, but that would be fun.

Moving on, however, as soon as I entered the compartment, they stopped talking and looked at me. Benjy smiled and asked me how the meeting had gone (aww, isn’t he sweet?). I sighed exasperatedly and replied, “Well I made a right fool of myself.”

“No you didn’t, Lily,” said Marley, confident she was right, even though she hadn’t been there. “You did wonderfully, and you’re just bringing yourself down with all this denial.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, if you think standing in front of all the Prefects with nothing to say a great job, then, sure, I was great.”

Marley grinned. “Ah, so the old stage fright got ya’?” She stood up and patted me on the back. “It happens to the best of us.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, so it’s happened to you?”

She smirked. “Well, of course not, but we all know I’m inhumanly perfect.”

I rolled my eyes again and took a seat. I snatched up one of Marley’s chocolate frogs that was on the seat and popped it into my mouth. I tried desperately to relax. As if that were possible with all these new responsibilities! From what I heard from Potter, there were so many more duties for Heads than for Prefects. What is this world coming to?! How does Potter know more about our duties than I do? _I_ am the responsible one, _he_ is the prankster and Marauder (some weird name he and his friends gave themselves - I don’t know why)! He doesn’t care about others, he doesn’t care about rules, _he_ is a heartless, ruthless, Machiavellian Prince! What is wrong with our generation? Are we so depraved that someone as awful as Potter has authority? Maybe fate is determined to kick me in the arse. Maybe, if I hadn’t hated Potter so much, this would not have happened. Don’t acknowledge your annoyance, or else it will come back to harass you!

And besides, how does he know so much about being a Head? There were no real instructions about this in _my_ letter. Nobody informed _me_. Apparently Dumbledore trusts Potter more than me! Maybe he knows about all those times Marley and I sneaked out at night last year. Oh, Merlin… maybe he knows about how we drew that mustache on the House Elf that was sleeping in the kitchen! It’s not as if I want to harm elves! It’s not some harmful, pathological disorder of mine! It just seemed funny at the time. Maybe I should clear this issue up with Dumbledore and tell him it was not my fault that Marley wanted to do that!

Anyway, the point is: Potter knows more about something than I do! Not that he doesn’t normally… I mean, I can’t deny the fact that he gets some of the highest grades in our Year, but the boy puts in no bloody effort! It gets on my nerves how I study so hard and get only a moderately good grade, while he doesn’t even glance at his textbook and gets the highest marks! I bet he cheats. Maybe he found a way to counteract the Anti-Cheating charms on our quills. 

While I was thinking things along these lines, I guess there was a conversation still going on, which was why I was shocked back into reality when Marley asked, “Are you listening, Lily?”

I decided that pretending I was actually paying attention wasn’t worth it, so I simply shook my head. This didn’t deter Marley at all, and she simply repeated what she had said. “Well, I decided that this year, I’m going to be perfect.” She grinned in a way that is purely Marley. She has this mischievous smile that is a half-smirk. Sirius Black has something similar to it, but his is a lot more disconcerting, because he usually has some nasty trick up his sleeve. Marley, however, is perfectly harmless. Except when she’s mad (and that girl has a temper that can match mine - which is saying something! I’m not a redhead for nothing!), but that’s so rare that it doesn’t matter. She continued. “I mean, as close to perfect as I can achieve. So - I’m going to eat healthy, exercise, work hard at school, et cetera.”

I rolled my eyes (I do this a lot, I guess - I’ve never noticed it before, but now that I’m writing it all down, I’m starting to recognize all my annoying little habits). This was the same thing that happened every year. On the first day of school, Marley would say that she would try her hardest, but by the end of the day, she had given it up so that she could return to be her lazy, disorganized self. I pointed this out to her.

She gave me a small smile. “Not this year. This year is going to be _the_ year! We have to do well, or we’ll get lousy jobs, and we’ll end up living off our parents for the rest of our lives!” She was always so adamant about it too; I don’t know why she even tried. “Plus, we need to be healthy and exercise, because I think we’re losing ground with the males!” Of course, she was only talking about herself, since I never _had_ ground with the males. “I’m getting fat,” she complained, slumping in her seat, as if to demonstrate her point.

I shook my head. Marley never got fat. She was one of those lucky people that can completely stuff their faces but never gain a pound.

Suddenly, she grabbed my arm and gave me a pleading look (if anyone else did this, I would get very uncomfortable, probably slap their hand away, and tell them to never touch me again - I’m not a physically affectionate person, and Marley is the only one that I allow to touch me constantly - and no, I’m not like that; it’s just that I’m so comfortable with her that I have gotten used to her touchy nature). “Please, Lil’,” she implored. “I need someone to do this with me! If I don’t have you to keep me going, you _know_ that I’ll give up right away!”

Sighing, I said that I would. It’ll probably be good for me anyway. _I’m_ not like Marley; I don’t have the wonderful metabolism. I, like the rest of the world, have to exercise to keep myself from growing to be as big as a whale. Don’t get me wrong - it’s not like I exercise. I haven’t gained _too_ much weight yet, but I _know_ that one day, my body is going to realize that it’s not supposed to stay this size, and everything I’ve ever eaten will catch up with me, and I’ll suddenly expand to the size I logically should be, and that can’t be safe! I’ll probably explode from the expansion. And no one wants little pieces of Lily Evans flying everywhere.

…Wow, I’ve got a sick, twisted mind. Strange imagery.

Moving on, however, we soon changed into our robes, and the train came to a halt at Hogsmeade Station. I felt a nudge near my right shoulder and turned around.

Potter.

Raising an eyebrow, I gave him a questioning look. What was he doing, nudging me like that?

“We have to lead the students off the train.”

Oh. Right. Head duties.

Nodding my head, I waited for him to turn around, and then followed him out the door. Most of the students were already changed and ready to go, but we had to wait for some First Years who didn’t know that they were supposed to have changed. When all that was done and everyone was off the train, we pointed the First Years toward Hagrid (a large - and I mean HUGE - man who keeps the grounds at Hogwarts), and then made sure the rest of the students got into the horseless carriages (which aren’t actually horseless, as I discovered last year).

“C’mon,” Potter told me, grabbing my wrist and dragging me over to one of the carriages. Frowning, I followed him. He then stopped and let me go in first. Deepening my frown, I looked at him in suspicion, just in case he was planning on slapping a “Kick Me” sign on my back while I got in the carriage. He raised his eyebrows. “Merlin, I’m not going to kill you or anything.” Seeing that I was still incredulous, he continued, “I promise, no funny business until we reach Hogwarts.”

Still frowning, I asked “‘Until?’ You mean you have some ‘funny business’ planned for when we get there?”

He rolled his eyes. Maybe Potter has a bad eye-rolling habit too. “When have I ever done anything to you, Evans?” At the look I gave him, he said, raising his hands up in defense, “Okay, don’t answer that.”

Realizing that the time was rolling by, I decided to give in and just get into the carriage, though at the same time fully aware that this could be a _huge_ mistake. After I was settled in, Potter got in also, and we were about to go when we heard a yell coming from outside.

“Oy! Wait for me!” shouted Sirius Black.

I noticed Potter roll his eyes, but a small grin appeared on his face as Sirius practically jumped into the carriage and took a seat next to me. Since I was scrunched up in a corner, I guess he didn’t notice I was there, because he didn’t acknowledge my presence and simply talked to Potter.

“Merlin, is it just me or do the girls here just keep getting uglier every year? This one Ravenclaw practically mauled me as I was getting off the train, and I had to explain to her that I wasn’t interested.” He flicked his black hair out of his eyes. An arrogant gesture. I narrowed my eyes at him. Hogwarts girls aren’t ugly! I know _I’m_ not especially pretty, but I know plenty of girls who are! “Not that they’re all bad though.” Okay, so maybe his assessment wasn’t so awful. “I noticed that some Seventh Year Gryffindor girls weren’t bad _at all_.” He winked at Potter.

I turned my head toward him (Potter, that is). He looked pretty uncomfortable, which was weird. Potter’s always suave and controlled. Even when I’m yelling myself hoarse at him, he’s got a cool and collected look on his face. But he _definitely_ looked uncomfortable then. He cleared his throat and said, “Sirius?”

“Mhmm?”

“You do know we’re not alone?”

Black looked at me and his eyes widened. Then he just grinned. “Hello, Evans. Have a nice summer?”

I stared at him mutely. Merlin, now _I_ was feeling uncomfortable. Black seemed to notice this too, so he said, “Sorry about before…”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” I told him. “It’s common knowledge that Marley’s gorgeous, anyway.”

He raised an eyebrow at me.

I squirmed. “I won’t tell her if you don’t want me to!”

Then he laughed and said, “Nah, Evans, don’t worry about it. I’m sure _Marley_ wouldn’t mind anyway.”

Confused by his odd behavior, I decided to give up trying to understand it. I simply answered his previous question. “And my summer went well, thank you. How about yours?”

When his face darkened slightly, I immediately wanted to take back my question. Fortunately, he quickly hid his angry look and grinned. “I spent most of it with James.” He looked over at his friend almost endearingly. Hmm, maybe they were lovers… HA! Now there’s an odd thought. That _would_ explain why he thinks the girls at Hogwarts are ugly. Minus Marley, that is.

Well, I guess talking to me wasn’t interesting enough to Black, because he turned away and talked to James. They shared a few inside jokes that I didn’t understand, talked about people I didn’t know, and basically left me confused until we _finally_ reached Hogwarts. Merlin, it seemed like the trip there was longer than usual.

Black jumped out and then looked up at me, holding out his hand. Feeling a bit awkward, I took it and jumped out. “C'était un plaisir, Mademoiselle.” (I just repeated this to Marley, and she said it means “it was a pleasure,” and she told me how to spell it. See what I mean - too smart for her own good!) And, still holding my hand, he kissed it! Who does that?! That kind of thing was _abolished_ in the nineteenth century! Ya’ know, I was sort of flattered by it, but it was also VERY awkward.

“Erm… right. You too.” Then I made a quick exit.

When I entered the Great Hall, I was annoyed to find that we were late. The Sorting was already taking place, and instantly, when I opened the doors, all eyes turned to me at the noise. Ducking my head, I tried to quickly make my way to the Gryffindor table. When I sat down next to Marley, I looked up and saw Potter enter. Upon seeing the stares, he grinned and waved hugely at them. Behind him, Black managed to look simply elegantly pleased that people were looking at him. As much as he is an immature boy, he has this elegance to him that sort of inexplicable. It seems sort of odd - that he can be that silly while also keeping an air of superiority and sophistication. Lucky git. I need to take some lessons from him. I’m lousy at the whole “air of sophistication” thing.

I looked back over at Marley and found her frowning at her empty plate in frustration. I knew how much she hated the Sorting and opening speech. She is _always_ hungry. Her stomach is like bottomless pit. She looked up at me with a helpless expression on her face. “Make it end!” she begged me, as if I had any say in the matter.

I ignored her and watched the end of the Sorting ceremony. We got three new boys for Gryffindor and four new girls (or maybe three also? I don’t quite remember). One of the boys is a redhead. I’ll have to find out his name later. Redheads should always stick together!

Well, Dumbledore gave his speech about Hogwarts, how we weren’t supposed to go into the Forbidden Forest, blah, blah, blah. You know the drill. We sang the Hogwarts song, and _finally_ we got to eat. Marley practically wet herself from happiness. She actually had to lean right over her plate to shovel the food into her mouth quickly. Eww, gross. That girl has awful posture. It’s amazing that boys like her, even when she can be truly un-lady-like at times. I mean, not to brag or anything, but when it comes to etiquette, I’m very talented. My mum raised me up well. It’s now habit to sit up straight, keep my elbows off the table, place my napkin on my lap, etc. Apparently Marley’s parents neglected her in this respect.

Anyway, not much talking went on during the meal. Benjy sat with his other group of friends (I’m kind of hurt that we’re not his primary friends), and Marley was too busy eating and talking to some other people to pay any attention to me. I guess I could have talked to somebody else, but Marley was on my right, and this strange Fourth Year was on my left. She kept staring at me while I was eating. It was pretty unnerving. Didn’t her mother tell her that it is impolite to stare?!

When the opening feast was finally finished, I felt another nudge on my shoulder. I looked back and saw James. What’s with all this shoulder-nudging? Was he planning on making this a habit? I sure hope not, because although it doesn’t actually hurt, it’s pretty alarming. I’m not used to people nudging me! I’m telling you - I’m _not_ accustomed to physical gestures. They make me uncomfortable.

“We have to lead everyone to the common room,” he informed me. He ran his hand through his hair. Now, this gesture is both very attractive and very irritating. It’s attractive because there’s something about a guy doing so that is very sexy. It’s irritating because it messes up his hair even more. He should get lessons from Sirius on how to keep his hair neat. Sirius could be making some good money, considering all the things he could teach the students of Hogwarts. Not that he needs the money. He’s filthy rich, being the Black family heir. Anyway, the point is - Sirius has really nice hair. It’s somewhat feminine, but it works well for him.

Back to Potter, though. He wasn’t finished talking. “We could always make a prefect do it, though,” he suggested, looking at me for support.

Well, if he doesn’t want to spend time with me, herding the students into Gryffindor Tower, then _fine_! His loss. “Sounds good.”

“I’ll just tell Meadowes to do it, then.”

“All right.”

And then he left. Except he came back and walked with me to the tower. Odd. This isn’t something he normally does.

Not that I really minded it, since Marley was nowhere to be found. I was just standing there by myself, when I heard a voice next to me. “McKinnon went ahead,” he informed me, looking me in my eyes. Ugh! I don’t like when people do that. It always feels like they can read your mind - something I found out is not impossible in the wizarding world. Nothing is safe anymore! 

“Well, we’d better get going, unless we want McGonagall on our heels,” he said, urging me forward. When we were both walking toward the tower, he continued. “She has this nasty habit of listening in on the conversations of others. One time, she overheard Sirius and myself discussing-”

But I never got to find out what they had been discussing, for the three missing Marauders chose that moment to join us. Sirius fixed himself between James and me, slinging an arm around each of us.

“Ah, Evans, I see I’ve run into you once again,” he said to me. I was trying to subtly shake his arm off, but his grip was firm. I gave up. “A bloke’s got to wonder why you’re always around. I’ve got a question to ask you.”

I looked up at him. He had a serious expression on his face, but his eyes were twinkling mischievously. “And what’s that, Black?”

“Are you stalking me?”

I laughed at the suggestion. “I’m sorry to hurt your ego like this, but I have _not_ been stalking you.” He didn’t look insulted at all. “There is another explanation for this, though.”

“And what’s that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You could be stalking _me_.”

Smiling, he said, “Too true, love. I’m afraid you’ve discovered my deep, dark secret.” He took his arm off James, but his other arm remained firmly around my shoulders. “Ya’ know, Evans, you’re just the right height. Just tall enough for me to rest against you when I’m feeling incapable of carrying my own body weight.”

I snorted. “Well, if you plan on doing this often in the future, maybe we can work out some sort of payment plan. My services don’t come for free.”

“Ah, you ruin all my fun.” But he was still grinning. Obviously I don’t ruin his fun _too_ much.

“Well, if you two lovebirds are quite done…” started James.

Sirius looked affronted. “Of _course_ we’re not done, mate. We’re off to find a broom closet!”

And of course, my body had to be cruel to me, and my cheeks instantly turned red. Bloody pale skin! I looked down at the ground, hoping that I wouldn’t be noticed. When I recovered, I looked up and saw Potter giving Black a dark look. He seemed to notice my glance, however, and instantly returned to normal. Merlin, are the two of them having a fight or something? This is nothing to get worked up over.

Fortunately, they seemed to discover this too, and things returned to normal. At least, until we heard a yelp from behind us. Black’s arm finally left my shoulder, and we both turned around. And there was Peter Pettigrew, his clothes on fire. Ha! That was a great sight. Remus Lupin was leaning over, his hands on his knees, as he laughed hysterically. Peter himself was trying frantically to put out the fire.

Sirius and I burst into laughter at the look of pure fear on the boy’s face. Potter, on the other hand, acted responsibly and put out the fire with a simple spell. Then he looked at Peter curiously. “How in Merlin’s name did you do that?”

The frazzled boy just said, “I don’t know.”

Potter shook his head, smiling, and we all continued walking in moderate silence. When we reached Gryffindor Tower and entered the common room, we went our separate ways, and here I am, sitting by fireplace (there’s no fire now, obviously, since it’s still summer), writing in here. It’s _really_ late now, and Marley and I are the only ones still in here. Marley’s sleeping, though. I don’t really want to wake her up, but I guess I should. Well, goodnight.

 

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**PLEASE READ:** Well, I’ve been planning on writing a diary-form James/Lily fanfiction for a long time, and since that point there have been many of the same type written. So I’m going to try to make this as original as I can, under the circumstances. Unfortunately, there are some aspects of it that might be repeats for you.

Also, my characters are going to be _very_ quirky, Marley especially, just to warn you. And, I’d like you to know that NONE of the characters in this story are original. They were all briefly mentioned in the books (OotP mostly).

AND - could you PLEASE give me some tips on dialogue! Because that is most definitely my weak point. I’m absolutely _horrid_ at dialogue. I need help! Advice is _always_ appreciated. Please leave comments, even if you don’t have advice. Comments are the only thing that keeps me going. 


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